


A Duty to His King

by mumsywrites



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Hilda provided the soap, M/M, NSFW, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Shower Sex, Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), just cuz there's a war doesn't mean we don't have time for self care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:41:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22981924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumsywrites/pseuds/mumsywrites
Summary: Felix just wanted a moment of solitude in the monastery washroom. Unfortunately for him, the boar prince had a similar idea…I call this “semi-period appropriate shower sex” and created a sauna-like washroom for it to occur. Enjoy!
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 2
Kudos: 75





	A Duty to His King

The steam rose from the far end of the washroom, bringing a heat likely to rival that of the sauna. But for as much as he detested the heat, Felix relished in the feeling of washing the blood off his skin after a fierce battle. And the hot steam in the air aided in that. Not only did it help him rinse the blood off, it soothed his sore joints, after having spent hours gripping his sword and fending off imperial soldiers. The first wash after a battle was to be appreciated, and guaranteed a night of calm sleep.

Besides, he couldn’t stand the smell of raw blood, sinking into the cracks of his skin.

He took his washcloth and dipped it into the bucket at his feet, swirling it in the warm water. Wringing it out, he placed it on the back of his neck and closed his eyes as the water ran down his back. 

“Ah…”

He let out a sigh of pleasure, his muscles twitching as the warm water glided down his back.

“You seem to be quite relaxed,” an intrusive voice butted in, paired with the sound of footsteps, walking towards Felix’s place on the bench. “A bit warm for my taste, however.”

Felix opened his eyes and glared at the oncoming patron. The boar prince, wrapped in a robe that was slowly being stained by the blood dripping from his hair.

Felix turned back to his own washing, not bothering with a response. It had been several weeks since the boar prince awoke from his stint into murderous madness, no thanks to the sacrifice of Felix’s own father. He was surprised Dimitri would even bother coming in to wash off the blood; he had grown so accustomed to the occasional splash of deep red staining his ragged blue cloak.

After moments of stale silence, Dimitri took a seat at the wash station beside Felix, dropping his bucket of steaming water in front of the wooden bench with all the grace of a blind ox. 

Felix let a sound of disapproval escape his lips, catching the attention of the boar mere feet from his spot on the bench.

“I’m…sorry, did it splash on y-…”

“No,” Felix said, his tongue sharp. He caught himself, and held the wash cloth tight in his hands. He could see the guilt in Dimitri’s one good eye. “It…it’s fine.”  
The two sat in silence, Felix now rushing his most treasured time to himself in order to escape the situation at hand. 

He glanced over briefly as Dimitri slid off his robe and hung it on the hook at his station. It was the first time Felix had seen the scars that littered his flesh. So many years ago as children, only one or two were there, from dumb fights and falls within the palace. Now they were battle scars as well as the marks of a man at war; with himself, with his demons, with the world. Felix kept passing glances and was thankful to be on Dimitri’s blind side; he caught himself staring far too long at Dimitri’s large, calloused hands wringing water out from a fresh wash cloth. 

“Tch, aren’t you going to use any soap?” Felix nearly spat out the words, much harsher than he intended. He immediately bit back his lip and dug his fingers deeper into the cloth.

Dimitri laughed awkwardly and held his washcloth in trembling hands; why was he trembling?

“I…I guess I’m not very good at this sort of thing.”

Felix rolled his eyes and grabbed the bottle from his station, nearly forcing it into Dimitri’s free hand. “Here, use this,” he said, turning back to his own washing.

“What…”

“It’s soap,” he said, cupping his hand into his bucket to quickly rinse out his hair. “I got it from Hilda. You know how she is.”

Dimitri let out a soft chuckle that caused an impossible chill to run up Felix’s spine. “I should trust the woman who refuses to build a sweat during battle. Though, I am glad to have her on our side for this war.”

“Why? So you can use her soap?” Felix wrung out the final bit of water from his hair and stood up from the long, wooden bench. He grabbed his robe from the nearby hook and headed towards the changing quarters. “I’m done here. Good night, boar…”

“Felix,” Dimitri said, in a tone desperate enough to stop Felix in his tracks.

He turned back, Dimitri sitting upon the bench, his washcloth in one hand, the soap bottle in the other. 

“Could you…” He paused and dropped his head, shaking it dejectedly. “This is quite the pathetic request, but…” Dimitri laughed and lifted his head, a meek smile on his lips. “Could you please assist me with washing my hair? I’m afraid I’m awful at getting all the blood and dirt out, especially from the back.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “You truly _are_ going to be a pathetic king if you can’t even wash the blood out of your hair properly.”

Dimitri laughed. “I must agree, it is such a simple task, but…” He looked up and Felix was taken aback by the cloudy white eye, paired with a deep scar that ran across the right side of Dimitri’s face. “But that’s why I have such trusted advisors, correct?”

Felix shook his head, coming back from the shock of actually seeing what had been hidden beneath the eyepatch. He also hadn’t grown used to hearing the prim and proper Dimitri from years passed paired with the gruff man he had become in the last five years.

“Advisors aren’t supposed to bathe you,” Felix said, walking back and dropping his washcloth on the far edge of the bench.

Dimitri smiled and hid the milky eye under his scarred eyelid. “Thank you, Felix.”

Felix merely groaned and leaned over, lathering up a small drop of Hilda’s soap with the hot water in his hands. He stood behind Dimitri and ran his fingers up his neck and into dry, crusty strands that reeked of iron and death.

“When was the last time you got back here?” Felix asked, his nose turning up at the sight of small black chips falling down Dimitri’s back.

“You know I’ve never been good with delicate things,” Dimitri said through a soft, awkward laugh.

Felix shook his head and built up a healthy lather at the back of Dimitri’s neck, but his eyes traveled lower and became stuck on the impressive muscles that twitched at his touch. He watched as suds and streams of water rolled down Dimitri’s back, following every curve of his muscles. He closed his eyes, trying to fight back whatever urge was rising within. He swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the rock in his throat. “That goes without saying,” Felix choked out, his fingers shaking in Dimitri’s hair.

Dimitri must have noticed. He reached up, wrapping his fingers around Felix’s wrist and turned his body towards him, looking up with that lone blue eye.

“I’m glad I have you,” he said, his voice soft.

He stood there in the moment, time frozen. They just fought to regain control of Faerghus, and Dimitri had solidified his place as King, effectively putting an end to the usurpers. There was yet to be coronation, but there was no denying that his future was just within grasp. 

_“…such trusted advisors…”_

The words echoed in his head, and Felix closed his eyes. His own future was close as well. Would he really follow that path, beside the king? Helping him to strategize war campaigns, bring about peace, and…

_“…advisors aren’t supposed to bathe you…”_

He opened his eyes and looked down at Dimitri, his future king. Was this part of his duty to his sovereign?

Dimitri smiled, his hand still around Felix’s wrist; for as dry and calloused as they were, his touch was surprisingly gentle. He bent down his head and turned Felix’s hand in his own, gently placing a kiss upon his palm.

Felix lost his breath at the brush of Dimitri’s lips on his skin. His knees grew weak and he started to falter, the addition of the heat and steam not helping his current predicament.

Dimitri caught him, his rough hands pressed into Felix’s sides, their bodies pressed together. Their chests rose and fell in time, and Felix could feel the beads of sweat trickle down Dimitri’s skin. He felt hotter than before, but he knew it couldn’t be the steam.

“Wh-what…” Felix tried to get his words out, but Dimitri brought his face close, his eye full of earnest.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

Felix wasn’t sure who moved first, but he didn’t seem to care; Dimitri’s mouth was on his and Felix gripped at Dimitri’s shoulders as tightly as he could. The warmth of their mouths was almost a relief from the increasing heat of the washroom, and Felix relished in the taste of Dimitri. Nothing like blood at all.

Dimitri’s hands moved lower to Felix’s hips and shifted him on top of his lap.

Gasping, Felix pushed back from the kiss, his breathing heavy. He could feel Dimitri’s cock, hard and pressed up against his stomach. He looked down, somewhat surprised to see his own erection as well, but instinct moved him to grasp them both.

Dimitri flinched, a puff of hot air escaping his lips. “A-ah, Felix,” he said, his voice hitched, but he looked into Felix’s eyes, and suppressed his moans in another kiss. His hand soon joined and Felix shuddered in Dimitri’s hold.

Their hands moved in a steady rhythm, Felix’s hips rolling along with them on Dimitri’s lap. With the flick of a thumb against his shaft, Felix’s lips fell out of the kiss, but Dimitri caught him back, biting on his lower lip, tugging Felix back towards his mouth.

Dimitri’s free hand moved up along Felix’s thigh, the cracks in his fingers leaving little scratches in their wake, but eventually rounding out, cupping Felix’s ass.  
Felix breathed in and pulled back, his free hand joining Dimitri’s. Laying his forehead up against his future king’s, he merely nodded.

Dimitri’s fingers twitched and his already red face flushed a deeper shade, his hand continuing its journey.

Felix reached up and cradled Dimitri’s chin in his hand. “Consider it my obligation towards my King,” he said, shuddered breaths interrupting his words.

After a moment of silent staring, Dimitri nodded back and returned his mouth to Felix’s as his fingers began to enter the warmth of Felix’s body.

Felix’s back reflexively arched back, both hands now gripping tightly on Dimitri’s shoulders, fingers slipping over wet and sweaty skin. 

Dimitri took advantage of Felix’s exposed neck, leaning in to nibble at the tender flesh while he continued to probe and stretch Felix; the humid air of the washroom made the task simple, as Dimitri soon slipped a second finger inside. 

Felix moaned, his body twitching at the new sensations. He pulled Dimitri closer to him, with what little strength he had left. He wanted more, but he wasn’t sure how much his body could take. He felt Dimitri’s teeth bite softly into his neck, a slight distraction to the third finger that had slipped in behind. Both caused Felix to shudder and moan, his body already at the brink of mere explosion.

Dimitri’s fingers moved gently inside, slowly stretching and caressing the inner curves of Felix’s body. He glanced up and with a soft kiss, asked, “May I?”

Felix groaned at the boar’s attempt at manners. Felix only wanted one thing, and that was Dimitri deep inside him. “Y-yes! Hurry already!”

With a soft smile, Dimitri’s free hand maneuvered Felix’s hips up above his waist, and pressed his cock just up against Felix’s ass. With a swift motion that rivaled his sword play on the battlefield, Dimitri’s fingers were out and cock was in.

For a moment, Felix’s vision went blank and he nearly fell back, but Dimitri caught him and held him close, cradling Felix’s body tightly as his back arched.

Slowly, Dimitri pushed in deeper, and the two of them cried out together; if anyone else had walked into the washroom at this time, the two of them would be none the wiser, both of them completely drunk on each other’s touch.

Dimitri grasped Felix’s hips tightly, trying desperately to maintain his grip through all the mist and sweat. He built up a steady rhythm as his moved in and nearly out.

Felix rocked his hips as best he could, but he faltered every time he felt Dimitri slide within him. He tried to quiet himself, moving towards Dimitri’s mouth, but after a few more thrusts, Felix lost control. He came, right upon both their stomachs, and cried out before his lips could reach Dimitri’s.

With a few more erratic thrusts, Dimitri came shortly after and Felix winced as he felt the warm substance trickle within him.

Exhausted, Felix was thankful for Dimitri’s brutish strength to hold him upright. His chest heaved with shallow breaths as he tried to regain a small bit of his composure.

Dimitri held him close, placing soft kisses upon Felix’s neck. “How fortunate we are to already be in the washroom,” he said with a light chuckle.

Felix groaned and regained some of his strength, no thanks to the stupidity of the boar. “I’m not helping you this time,” he said, standing up from Dimitri’s lap. 

Unfortunately, his strength had not yet returned to his legs as he nearly tumbled to the ground.

Dimitri caught him, and smiled. “No, I suppose that’s my duty, now…”

Feeling like a fool, Felix turned his eyes away, hoping the rising heat in his cheeks would disappear as well. Perhaps this time they would actually be able to leave the washroom somewhat clean.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a hot minute since I last wrote smut. Meant to write this for Dimilix week but couldn't make it in time.  
> Hope y'all enjoyed it!


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